Bon Voyage, Bon Baggage: The Ultimate Tahiti Packing Guide

From Bora Bora to Moorea to the Marquesas, Paul Gauguin Cruises has explored these islands for nearly 30 years. That kind of deep familiarity means we know a thing or two about what truly belongs in your bag. Think of this as packing advice from a friend who lives in paradise. A friend named the m/s Paul Gauguin.

➤ Water shoes. Not glamorous, we know. But try navigating a coral-studded motu in flip flops (or worse, your bare feet), and suddenly those water shoes become your most beloved possession. Pack them. Wear them. Brag about them later. ➤ A wide-brim sun hat and/or visor. The South Pacific sun is generous to a fault. A good hat is less a fashion statement than a survival strategy—though ideally, it's both. ➤ Polarized sunglasses. They cut the glare off the water in a way that reveals every layer of blue—that fabled gradient of turquoise, teal, and sapphire that Tahiti is famous for. This is not an upsell. It's a visual upgrade. ➤ Reef-friendly sunscreen—and maybe some aloe. French Polynesia's coral reefs are among the most extraordinary on Earth, and the wrong sunscreen can do actual damage. Look for mineral formulas with zinc oxide or titanium dioxide, free of oxybenzone and octinoxate, the chemicals known to cause harm to reef and marine ecosystems. Pack aloe gel alongside, for the afternoon you inevitably miscalculate. ➤ Multiple swimsuits. You’ll be in and out of the water all day—snorkeling one hour, heading to the beach the next, back on board for lunch, and dipping in the pool at sunset. One-piece, two-piece, tankinis and trunks—pack a variety, and pack enough. It’s no fun reaching for that damp suit the next day… ➤ Cover-ups. For exploring a village after snorkeling or heading to lunch poolside with salt still in your hair. Think breezy, colorful, and tropical. Something that flows well in this idyllic latitude. And if you don’t have one that you like, not to worry. You’ll find all kinds of pareos, French Polynesia’s iconic fabric wrap, during your travels. ➤ A rash guard. Snorkeling here means hours face-down above a coral garden, often without realizing it. A rash guard protects from sun and whatever surprises the sea might have in store. It also means less sunscreen in the water, which is good for you, and good for the reef. ➤ Active daywear and resort wear. Loose and breathable for the days; easy dresses and linen separates for evenings on board. The blissfully unhurried ambience aboard The Gauguin is casually elegant—nothing too formal. ➤ Statement earrings. You know the ones. The pair you bought three years ago and said these will look so good with a tan. This is their moment. ➤ A light wrap. Evenings on deck cool off faster than you'd expect. Layers are underrated in the tropics. ➤ A camera (or just your smartphone). The debate rages on. But the nostalgia of a mechanical click by a real camera runs deep. Modern cameras do sync wirelessly now, so nothing is lost in the sharing. Through either lens, the lagoons of French Polynesia look extraordinary. ➤ A travel journal. A relic, yes. But there's something so luscious about good paper, a pen that glides, and your own written word that no app can replicate. A sketch of Mount Otemanu, a color trying to find a name, that French dish you never want to forget.

➤ For the literature lover: Herman Melville's Typee (1846) was essentially the first great American beach read, penned by a young sailor who jumped ship in the Marquesas and spent weeks living among the islanders. Adventure, ethnography, and romance, predating tourism to the islands by about a century. Reading it here feels like receiving a letter from the past. ➤ For the art lover: Paul Gauguin's own Noa Noa is the painter's attempt to explain, in his own words and sketches, why he abandoned Paris for Tahiti. The ship is named for him, so you might as well hear from him directly. ➤ For the history lover: Joan Druett's Tupaia: Captain Cook's Polynesian Navigator tells the story of the brilliant Raiatean navigator who guided the Europeans through a world they didn't understand. ➤ For the good read: Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, a 2022 New York Times bestseller that readers have been pressing into each other's hands ever since. Pair it with James by Percival Everett, a Pulitzer Prize-winning retelling of Huckleberry Finn from Jim's perspective. Both are the kind of books that make a long voyage feel too short.

➤ Start with the classics. "Tiare (Lovely Flower of Tahiti)" by the Kalua Beach Boys is pure island nostalgia, the kind of song that makes you want to stroll the open decks of The Gauguin. Les Baxter's "Tahiti: A Summer Night at Sea" is something else: lush, cinematic, and slightly dreamy. ➤ Move into the tiki era. Jimmy Buffett's "Tiki Bar is Open" (or really, any Buffett song will do!), Kenny Chesney's "Guitars and Tiki Bars," and Crosby, Stills & Nash's "Southern Cross" — the one that makes sailors cry. It belongs on every ocean playlist, always. ➤ Discover the deep cuts. Kevin Ayers' "Take Me to Tahiti," Wreckless Eric's "Whole Wide World," Jim Reeves' "Tahiti (Verve Land)," the Tikiyaki Orchestra's "Tango Tahiti." Sammy Davis Jr. or Bobby Darin on "Fabulous Places"—either version as both have the mid-century swagger that suits a Tahiti cruise. ➤ End with Nat King Cole. "I Remember You" is technically not a Tahiti song, but it is the sound of remembering somewhere beautiful. Which is exactly where your playlist, and your voyage, is headed.